Are You The Rabbit?
by samantha.nichole
Summary: Draco is scared, confused, and basically helpless. What is his long time rival to do... remain bitter enemies or stand by his side?  HarryXDraco. Timing placed during HBP. Rated for content in later chapters. Reviews are very much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

Draco sighed and took a long drag from his cigarette.

He sat cross legged on the floor between two sinks in the abandoned girl's bathroom that was notorious for being the haunt of Moaning Myrtle. There was some water on the tile, and his robes had gotten a little wet. He had loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, taking long, absentminded hits from his cigarette.

Crabbe and Goyle were probably looking for him by now. He smirked; he had been in the bathroom chain smoking for almost half an hour. They were probably running into walls from the lack of his direction. His grey blue eyes were no longer as cold as they once were, but the darkness that had overcome them didn't make him seem very much warmer either. He looked scared, but at the same time, defiantly prepared.

Exhaling quickly, he let the smoke billow around his face. Effectively finishing his cigarette, he reached up slightly and dropped the smoldering filter into one of the sinks above him. It released a slightly audible hiss when it touched the water.

He sighed again, thinking about everything that was going on. His father, ordering him, or even more appropriately, begging him to become a slave to the Dark Lord. The fear he felt about becoming a Death Eater was nearly too strong to put into words. He'd always awaited the time in his life that this would happen, as he'd known for years now that it inevitably would. But now faint traces of the dark mark would burn on his upper arm from time to time. He was petrified, and he knew that his father, and for that matter, the Dark Lord could sense his fear.

He wasn't doing very well in school. Professor Slughorn had made teasing him for his mistakes into a habit, as he was once the shining star in Potions class. But the title had been stripped from him and given to Potter, oh that conniving Potter. There was no way that the simple change in teachers could have somehow awakened a genius potion maker inside of him. It was suspicious, but obviously, Draco had much more pressing matters on his mind than how precious Harry Potter had suddenly become a brainiac.

Precious Harry Potter. Malfoy let out a slightly cynical laugh. The Boy Who lived. His sworn enemy ever since they had met in Diagon Alley before first year.

If only he knew how precious he really was.

Draco dug into his pocket. When he found the blade, he traced it slightly with his fingertips before removing it from his robes. In an oblivious state, Draco turned the blade over in his hand a few times, the image of Harry, his defiant little facial expression that he wore whenever Draco had actually gotten up the courage to confront him. He hadn't seen it much that year, he'd been too busy wallowing in his own self pity to bother even trying to go near Potter without openly sobbing.

Anger started to bubble down in Draco's stomach. He took the razor blade and pressed it threateningly to a place on his inner arm, right beneath the bend of his elbow. With slight hesitation, he closed his eyes, clamped his jaw, pressed down, and dragged the blade across his pale skin. Instantly he felt it; the pain that simultaneously came with a heavy rush of emotion. He opened his eyes slowly, letting out a breath, and examined his handy work. The blood was running, hot and sticky around his arm in a steady ribbon, like a macabre bracelet. He found another place further down his arm, that hadn't already been littered with scars. Without closing his eyes this time, he pressed the blade down again, watching as the path it left split his skin into a little dip, that bubbled up with blood. The bubbles burst, and two little streaks trailed down around his arm once more. The first cut was dripping on the tile now. The anger was bubbling up in his stomach faster than the cuts could release it. With no hesitation this time, he made a quick slice in his skin right above his wrist. This one bled a lot faster than the others; he was getting closer.

Here he was, the blade was right over his wrist. He wanted it so badly that he didn't know why he was even crying. He should be laughing; this was it, he'd finally gotten up the courage. Why hadn't he done it yet? His chest began to swell with the pent up anger, and then he heard a voice. It startled him, and he dropped the blade as his hand shook, leaving a tiny nick above his vein. There was a tiny metallic noise as the razor found the ground.

"Stop! Don't do that to yourself, just stop it!"

Myrtle, the infamous ghost that haunted this bathroom, glided into the air above the stall in front of him. He looked up at her, the dim light giving her an eerie glow, as if she was more than just a ghost.

She glided over to him in a huff, her tiny fists clenched, and tears streaking down her transparent face as she stared.

"Why are you doing that?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, doing his best to put on his mean facade, but the tears were still welling behind his eyelids. Once they overflowed, he buried his face in his hands.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!" he muttered hurriedly, grabbing fistfuls of his white blond hair and smearing blood on his face. He pushed himself up and stared Myrtle straight into her eyes. A few strands of his hair clung to the blood on his face like spider webs. "Why do you even care? What's your problem?"

Myrtle's chest rose.

"In case you haven't noticed, I never got to be a real teenager. I didn't have the chance, and you just want to throw it all away."

"You have no idea what I'm going through," Draco hissed angrily, rolling up his left sleeve and showing her the faint traces of the Dark Mark that were sizzling under his skin. Her lips parted a little bit in understanding, and her eyes softened.

"Draco, you have a choice-"

"No I don't! You just don't get it, do you? He'll kill me; he'll kill my family," Draco choked on the last word. Narcissa Malfoy crept into his mind; His mother was a very pretty, very loving woman that would do anything for her son, even if it meant her own death. She'd been telling him the same thing; That he had a choice.

He started sobbing. Myrtle placed her hands on his shoulder, making him shiver.

He hadn't even heard the door creak open.

Draco turned around to look himself in the mirror; blood stained face, disheveled hair, nearly invisible white eyebrows that looked even more so due to the dark circles under his eyes. Even as he stood there, the blood that had been pooling between his legs had formed a tiny stream leading into the sink's drain.

He sniffled, watching as the traces of water turned some of the blood pink.

But his vision faltered for a moment, and he saw the one person that he really wanted to see, watching him from the entrance of the bathroom with a surprised look on his face; he knew he'd been spotted. Thinking that he was hallucinating, Draco squinted and turned around, a little hopeful smile on his face.

"Harry?"


	2. Chapter 2

[Author's Note Okay, so I've been reading a lot of fan fiction lately, and I haven't really done that in a while, let alone written any, but I've come across about twelve thousand Harry/Draco pairings in which Draco cuts himself, and they are terrible! So don't email me telling me that I've stole your idea and whatnot, because if you do, then go yell at the other Eleven thousand nine hundred and ninety nine people that did the same thing. I'm probably giving the whole concept a little more intelligence than it is used to, so bare with me, okay? Thanks.

Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen.

xxxxxxx

"Harry?"

Draco's heart rose into his throat when he saw the ebony haired Gryffindor. Harry furrowed his brow, slowly taking a step closer to Draco. His hand rested on the pocket of his robes, and Draco knew that he was ready to draw his wand at any second. This made him give an involuntary little smirk; how naive Harry actually was.

"What's going on here Malfoy?" Harry said in a demanding voice. Draco continued to smile, somewhat lightheaded. He held his arm behind his back. He knew that Harry thought that he had just walked in on some diabolical scheme.

"Nothing, Potter, so why don't you just mind your own bloody business"

Draco's voice was cold as ice, but it was just a force of habit. He was still wearing the same lazy grin on his face. He felt a cold touch to his hidden arm, and knew that Myrtle was feebly trying to stop the bleeding. That wasn't very much possible seeing as how she passed right through him. He could hear her weak sobs.  
Harry glared at Draco, and looked around the bathroom as if waiting for some premeditated attack.

If only he knew what I really wanted, Draco thought.

He had read a muggle book once, called Alice in Wonderland. It was an assignment for Muggle Studies; read some appraised fiction. He felt like Alice right now, trapped in a place he could not escape, and fascinated by every one of Harry's movements; from the twitch of his eyebrows as his gaze shifted around the dank bathroom, to the way his hair stood up in the back and rustled slightly when he moved. Even the tight lipped expression he was giving Draco just made him want to get closer. He was the white rabbit.

The bell rang through the halls, making Harry jump a little but not startling Draco one bit. He was too transfixed on the Boy who Lived.

Neither one of them made any move to leave, even though the waves of laughing students could be heard tromping through the hallway. Draco let his arm fall to his side, not quite remembering why he was hiding it.

He felt dizzy, and before he knew it he had collapsed, falling face first onto the cold tile. He didn't even take notice to the pain in his pointed nose when he had hit the floor; he knew he hadn't broken it, but a strange pressure spread throughout his face nonetheless. Harry jumped forward without a moment's hesitation and knelt beside him, turning him immediately onto his back. Draco cradled his bleeding arm to his chest as Harry pulled him into his lap.

"Malfoy, are you okay? Malfoy"

He couldn't get the strength up to answer Harry. Blood was running over his lips now, into his mouth. He was still smiling.

Harry glanced at the spot that Draco had just stood, taking notice to the little pools of blood under the sinks and trailing to him in droplets; to the razor resting on the tile. Draco's vision was becoming clouded. He reached his bloodied arm up and touched Harry's face. Harry looked at him in horror, not just because of the slices that were still steadily dripping.

"They usually don't bleed this much," Draco told him in a dreamy voice, that could have been a striking impression of Luna Lovegood. "I don't know what happened. I guess if you want something bad enough, it happens whether you try for it or not."

Harry was trying to shake Draco to keep him awake. His eyes were slowly drooping shut.

"Just stay awake, okay, I'll go get help. Stay awake! Malfoy!"

Draco smiled broadly, his teeth shining with blood from his nose. He finally let his hand fall back onto his chest and his eyes closed. Harry, in a panicked state, slid his arms under Draco's back and knees. He stood up and rushed to the bathroom doors, careful not to hit Draco's head during the exit. His head lolled while Harry went as fast as he could to the hospital wing.

Not quite unconscious yet, Draco's eyes opened a little bit. He looked up at Harry's face and wondered why he was helping him. As his enemy, why wouldn't he have just let him die?

Must be the Gryffindor in him, Draco thought in a daze.

He slid is arms around Harry's neck with a smile on his face, pushing his face into his chest for some sort of comfort. Harry didn't object, although he did seem very tense. Finally, Draco was lulled into dreamland by the rhythmic beating of Harry's forgiving heart.


	3. Chapter 3

Madam Pomfrey was fussing over Malfoy's arm, changing the bandages and putting a new set of mending charms over the wounds. Harry sat beside him, not paying much attention but just thinking; thinking hard about what had just happened.

He couldn't get the image our of his head of Draco's face, covered in hot, sticky blood, and smiling as if he was in a state of bliss.

What had gotten into him?

It was so strange for Harry to see such a change in character. It was shocking to see such a usually proud, cynical person become so helpless. He knew that something was going on that was out of the ordinary, and he wanted desperately to find out what it was.

When Madam Pomfrey bustled away, off to help some other injured student, Harry shifted his gaze from the green curtain surrounding the bed to Malfoy's face.

His white blond hair was hanging over his closed eyes, unkempt and getting a bit longer than normal. The blood had been cleared from his face long since, but Harry could still see it there, shining brilliantly against Malfoy's abnormally pale skin. And though his thin lips were only slightly parted, he could still see that blissful smile, that loving gaze that he had given to Harry.

Malfoy's arms were resting at his sides, turned face up so that Harry could see the blood seeping through the bandages slowly. His chest rose and fell at a steady rhythm, signaling sleep.

Harry heard the voices of loud, angry men, one of which he recognized immediately as Severus Snape, the newly appointed Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. They were hurrying quickly towards where he was sitting, and faster than he could even think about it, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak and swept it over his shoulders. As soon as his feet had disappeared under the cloak, the emerald green curtain swung open by forceful magic.

Lucious Malfoy was absolutely fuming with rage, his expression filled with so much hatred that one would not think that Draco was even his son. Severus was right on his heels, peering with narrowed eyes over Lucious' shoulder.

"Draco. Draco, wake up this instant."

Draco did not stir. Harry did not dare get up from his chair, even though the cold voice of Mr. Malfoy was causing him to become angry. He was trying hard not to even breathe, for he had no idea what kind of consequences would be in store for him if he was detected.

"DRACO!"

He roused with a start, and the look of fear in is eyes when he saw his father was absolutely devastating. Harry never would have thought that someone like Malfoy would be afraid of their father; he seemed so pampered. The anger he felt for the way that Mr. Malfoy was treating his son was making his heart race. Who would scream like this when their own flesh and blood had just nearly succeeded in committing suicide?

"Draco, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Lucious was yelling. The murmuring amongst the other patients in the Hospital Wing had come to a complete hush, and Harry knew that they were all listening. "Your actions are such an immense disgrace to our family, to our blood, and to-"

"-Carful Lucious," Snape hissed from over his shoulder, and Mr. Malfoy's chest swelled with a sharp intake of breath.

Draco's face was frozen in terror, as if he just realized what he had done. Without warning, Lucious Malfoy raised his cane and struck his son across the side of his face. Draco yelped in pain, lifting his arms above him to shield from any further blows. But Snape had grabbed Mr. Malfoy's cane from him before he could hit Draco again.

"What do you have to say for yourself, boy? I expect a reasonable explanation, and soon!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Draco was whining like a young child.

"-Oh, you didn't mean to? Oh really? Well, that explains everything!" In one fluid movement Lucious had stepped in front of Harry and smacked Draco's face again with the back of his hand. Harry was holding his breath now, not an inch away from having his toes stepped on by Lucious Malfoy. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't finish what you started you ungrateful little prick? Do you know what this could mean for me, for Narcissa," Lucious trailed off. Harry saw him reach for Draco's throat, who was begging for forgiveness, but Snape shouted.

"Enough Lucious!"

Both of the Malfoys and Harry turned to look at him.

"Do you even remember what it was like when it began, Lucious? Can you really blame him for being frightened?" Snape's voice had lowered. He was trying to calm Draco's father down. But Mr. Malfoy's eyes were still sharp and cold when he glared at his son for one last time, before he stormed away, his heels ringing on the Hospital Wing tile.

Snape stared at Draco for a moment, who was still shaking with fear. He gave him an apologetic look.

"Draco, I know what you are going through. But this was definitely not the action to take." He had a moment's hesitation in which Harry wondered how he could see two such drastic character changes in such a short period of time. He felt like he had stepped out of the world of Gryffindor, in which Slytherin were the enemy. He felt as if he was now in the enemy's shoes, and they had their own problems, their own flaws. It was blowing his entire outlook on this group of people to smithereens. He'd never considered his enemies to be human too.

"When you're ready, I will be available for you to talk to, alright?" Snape said, and without waiting for a reply from Draco, he turned on his heel and sped off after Lucious.

Draco was panting with anxiety. Whispers could be heard amongst the other patients now, undoubtedly forming gossip about Draco.

After a few moments of paralyzed silence, Harry began to wonder whether or not he should reveal himself to Draco, or if he should just leave.

As if he could read Harry's thoughts, Draco said, "So, was that entertaining for you, Potter?"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen 

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Draco stared at his hands, resting face up on his stomach as if he had something on them that he didn't want there. He glanced over to where he estimated Harry would be, hidden under his Invisibility Cloak. With a little smirk, he moved his gaze back to his hands.

"You don't have to stay hidden, it's alright, I won't bite."

A few seconds past as Draco sat thinking about nothing in particular. Harry did not reveal himself. Draco began to wonder if he had been talking to himself; if he had imagined Harry sitting next to him at his bed for the past hour. But he knew he hadn't been.  
Sadly, Draco whispered, "Or you could just leave. I'd understand."

Another moment passed before slowly, Harry began to appear as if out of thin air, the cloak around him turning from invisible to a shimmering silvery fabric. Draco continued to stare at his hands, but there was no mistaking that out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry staring at him in concern and mild disbelief. The silence between them seemed to speak more than any conversation could have.

Harry sat down once again in the arm chair between Draco's bed and the curtain separating him and the neighboring patient.

"I never would have imagined," Harry said, somewhat in a daze and staring off into nothingness in the same manner of which Draco was staring at his hands. Draco gave a small nod. He knew that Harry had been contemplating how the last six years of interaction between them had somehow lead to this. Even in his coma-like state, he could hear his whispers of "How?", "Why?", and "What does this even mean?"

"Not a lot of people really get that impression," he said softly. Harry nodded back, and then immediately his dazed expression hardened and he glared over at Draco.

"So, what is all this about anyway?" he said, somewhat heatedly. Draco didn't respond, and a little more forcefully, Harry continued, "What would make you think that this was the only way out?"

Draco had the strong urge to say something smart, like telling Harry to shove off and mind his own business, but an even larger portion of him was telling him that the time for insults was over. There really wasn't any use in pretending anymore.

"I don't know," Draco finally said simply. Harry sighed, frustrated. After such a long hesitation he had been expecting to hear a more in depth answer than that. "I'm sorry," Draco told him, and before he had time to control himself, emotion was pouring out of him and he was crying. Harry just stared at him, shocked, which sort of angered Draco. But what, really, could he have expected? Comfort? That was likely. Six years of hateful comments and violence couldn't possibly lead to complete forgiveness in a two hour period.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, obviously not knowing what to do or what to say.

"There's no need for you to be sorry, I mean, I didn't mean to get upset-"

"Not about that." Draco hiccuped and glared at Harry, who was once again at a loss for words. "I'm sorry that I've been such a bloody prat. I'm sorry that you have to have this whole image of me built up, something that I am not and would never be if I had the choice. I'm sorry I teased you and I'm sorry that I bullied you, and I'm sorry that I can't give you an explanation for it-"

"Woah, calm down Malfoy," Harry said, a nervous smile on his face. "I'm not going to say no hard feelings, but I highly doubt that this is the time and place for apologies."

"Well when do you suppose I do apologize?" Draco hissed, a few tears still rolling down his face even though the initial crying had stopped. "When we leave here and everything goes back to normal?"

There were a few seconds in which Draco stared at Harry, while Harry contemplated something inside his head. Something told Draco that he was thinking about the entire incident that had happened in the bathroom and on the way to the hospital wing. His stomach dropped in a combination of embarrassment and anticipation as he recalled his actions towards Harry. His grey blue eyes locked with Harry's emerald ones in what one would almost assume to be terror.

"I don't think that it's possible for everything to go back to normal, Draco."

He knew that Harry was right, and with mixed feelings he struggled to sit up, his fingers grasping at the sides of the bed. He was still very weak. Harry glanced to the side nervously before looking back to Draco.

"Even if it was, I'm not sure that I'd want it to," Draco said, his stomach still in knots, trying tell him that his bravery was going too far.  
Harry hesitated, his hand, not going unnoticed to Draco, moving slightly up to the bed and nearly grazing the tips of his fingers.

"Me neither," he said, almost too quiet to hear. A slight blush went across his cheeks. Draco looked down at his legs, a blush and tiny smile creeping across his face as well. But before he could look up again, there was a swish from the bedside curtains and Harry was gone.

Even after Harry's stealthy escape, Draco's confused mind began to clear itself from all of it's usual thoughts. He now allowed it to swim only in happiness, even if it was only for the time being.

xxxxx

Chapter four. I appreciate reviews. I mean I really, really appreciate reviews. twitch


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't Own, Didn't Happen. 

xxxxx

Draco sat in the Great Hall the next morning, pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate absentmindedly. Madam Pomfrey had only recently released him from the hospital wing. It was nice to be on his feet again without someone following him around and making sure that he wasn't in possession of any sharp objects.

Although he wasn't all too sure that that was true. Pansy Parkinson was watching him intently, and whenever he made a move to leave, she did the same. He had the feeling that someone; probably Pomfrey or Snape had told her to take up the suicide watch. It wasn't all that bad, but he was wondering if Pansy would go so far as to follow him into the bathroom.

As usual, Crabbe and Goyle sat on opposite sides of him. They smelled like overworked oxen and it wasn't helping his already nauseated stomach to watch them eat. Giving up on his eggs and pushing his plate forward, he crossed his arms and rested them on the table. Taking a short glance around the Great Hall, he noticed that quite a few people were staring at him. It was a bit unnerving, but when he looked over to the Gryffindor table, his stomach did a back flip.

There was Harry, sitting next to that Granger girl, who was sitting next to Ron Weasley. The seemed to be carrying on a marvelously funny conversation, and Draco's paranoia did not falter once as he decided they were laughing at him.

Harry was smiling broadly, his cheeks flushed, and the other two were just as gleeful. Draco became angry. How come he was so happy? What did that little sneak have to be happy about, anyway? Draco suddenly wished that he was still in the Hospital Wing, preferably in critical condition. Harry's smile faded a little bit as if the joke had just lost it's effect.

Hermione went back to reading the Daily Prophet and Ron continued to shovel gobs of porridge into his face. Harry's eyes sneakily slid over to Draco, apparently not expecting to be noticed. But the eye contact was made and Draco swallowed. Harry gave him a look that looked caught between apologetic and understanding before looking back down to his plate and pushing around his own food.

Draco's anger fizzled away as fast as it had reared its ugly head, and he looked away as well. His mind drifted into day dreams, his eyes glazing over and mouth drooping open slightly.

"What happened to your arm, Malfoy?" Blaise Zabini asked him finally, and Draco snapped out of his daze just in time to prevent the puddle of drool gathering inside of his mouth from escaping.

"Oh, um," Draco hesitated. He had a story ready, he'd rehearsed it all night long in his head. What was taking him so long to reply? "Uh... Mrs. Norris," he said hastily, losing all of the convincing attitude that he had perfected in his head. "I was sneaking around in the abandoned bathroom on the second floor, she caught me and scratched me up bad when I tried to make a run for it."

"What were you doing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" Blaise asked skeptically, and a couple of other people turned around as if wondering the same thing. Suddenly it didn't feel so good to be popular.

"He was having a fag of course," Pansy smiled. Draco glanced at his watchers hopefully, giving a little nod. It seemed to satisfy them and they went back to what they were originally doing. Very appreciative of Pansy's friendship at the moment, he smiled up at her. She gave him the exact same facial expression that Harry had given him. Draco's smile faded. She knew something.

While everyone was leaving the Great Hall, Draco stayed behind. Pansy was taking her time as well, seemingly very preoccupied with how her books were organized in her bag. While waiting for the hustle and bustle to clear, Draco took another chance at looking after Harry, who was leaving with his friends. He thought that he noticed Harry glancing back at him, but it might have just been wishful thinking. Finally, he stood up and began to leave, and Pansy walked behind him in silence. At the doors, Draco sighed.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Pansy asked, staring at the ground as they walked.

"Not particularly," Draco said under his breath. She looked up at him, her face somewhat saddened.

"I know more than I think that you're giving me credit for, Draco," she said simply, and began to quicken her pace so that she was next to him instead of trudging along behind. He perked his ears up at this statement, but other than that he gave no sign that he had even heard her.

She sighed.

"I know about you and Potter."

He stopped, his eyes widened.

"What about me and Potter? What? We didn't do anything, I mean, I didn't, he didn't, he doesn't, what?" Draco stuttered, grabbing her shoulders. She looked scared and instantly he released her, feeling embarrassed.

"I saw you, in the bathroom. I saw you in his lap," she squeaked. His head reeled. He didn't think there was any possibility that anyone could have seen them, let alone someone he knew. She bit her lip an looked at the ground. "I found this," she said quietly. She reached into her robes and pulled out his razor blade. His heart sunk even further into his stomach. Hesitating slightly, she reached out to hand it to him. He looked at her, wondering why she was giving it back. Wasn't she worried that he would try to hurt himself again? But he took in, and tucked it safely into his pocket.

Pansy's face contorted slightly and she sniffed. Then she motioned that they should keep going. They continued to walk down the stone hallway leading to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom. The halls were nearly deserted, and they quickened their pace, robes swishing behind them.

"I really, really like you, Draco," Pansy said quietly. He didn't answer. He knew this, of course, they were supposed to be dating, but he had a feeling that even she knew that it was only for show. He looked over to her when they were steps from the classroom door. The bell was going to ring at any second.

"But I really want you to be happy."

Before he could even reply, she bustled past him into the classroom. He was left framed in the doorway, Professor Snape staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. The bell rang and he slipped in, taking his seat at his desk next to Blaise.


	6. Chapter 6

[Author's Note I realize that it's taking me quite a bit of time to actually get to all of the lovey dovey romance-y goodness, but please bare with me. I'm trying to build a good plot here.

Disclaimer: Don't own, Didn't happen.

xxxxx

When Malfoy was summoned to Dumbledore's office in the middle of Potions class, he had a million ideas brewing in his mind.

There was the possibility that he was going to have to be checked into counseling. Maybe some type of rehabilitation center. He didn't know what to expect; it wasn't exactly every day that someone at Hogwarts tried to kill themselves. His thoughts wandered to the razor blade that was resting at the bottom of his pocket, but deciding that there was a large possibility that there was some kind of tracking spell on him to make sure he didn't cut, he dismissed the thought.

He walked through the halls by himself, his footsteps echoing on the way out of the dungeons. Glancing once around himself, he ducked into a bathroom. Walking along the rows of stalls and checking for presence of anyone, he went into one of them and locked himself in. He took a moment to just listen. The only sound that could be heard was a sink that hadn't been properly shut off and was dripping. Draco reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Figuring that he had enough time to kill on the way to the Headmaster's office, he put the end of a cigarette into his mouth and with a casual flick, lit it with the end of his wand.

Inhaling deeply, he pulled his legs up onto the toilet and rested his elbows on his knees. He smiled to himself. It was weird to know that he was about to come face to face with the man that was the stem of all of his fears; Albus Dumbledore. He knew that he had no chance of completing the task that the Dark Lord had given him to complete; he was just a sixteen year old kid. What did he stand against the only man that the Darkest Wizard to walk the earth was a afraid of?

He wondered whether or not he should even try; that was why his first instinct was suicide. At least if he had killed himself, then there would be no one but himself to blame. His mother and father wouldn't have to suffer the blame of his failure. But the way that his father had reacted in the Hospital Wing the evening before made him second guess his decision. Maybe they would be punished for his behavior. Maybe there was no fool proof way of keeping his family out of harm. Unless of course he did as he was told without any mistakes.

That's bloody likely, he thought to himself, and took another drag from his cigarette. The greenish smoke billowed around him and rose above the stall, giving anyone that passed a tell tale sign of his location and what he was doing. He didn't care though; he was going to see the Headmaster anyway. If he was going to get caught then the visit would kill two birds with one stone.

Draco's thoughts wandered. He thought of Harry, once again. Somehow, no matter what the importance of the train of thought before it, his thoughts of Harry always managed to take over. It was indeed a very confusing situation that he was in. Ever since they had met, Draco had tried his very hardest to produce an image of utmost hatred towards him. Harry had always led him to believe that the hatred was returned, but not by means of acting. How could he possibly manage to forgive Draco for all of the cruel and nasty things he'd done to him?

He remembered the day in Diagon Alley. They were eleven years old, not anywhere near old enough to possibly form a real hate towards one another. He'd even tried to introduce himself in a friendly way. But yet again, his father's hatred of the poor and the impure had spoiled his image of Harry's friends, therefor ruining his chance of being on good terms with Harry himself. Then again, even if he had managed to get on Harry's good side, he doubted the friendship could last very long without his father interfering.

The memory of his father, smiling smugly at the unkind words Harry had spoken to him that day had always triggered anger inside of Draco.

"Good riddance. I don't want you mixing with that boy anyway, Draco. It would be far too risky for you," Lucious had said. Draco didn't understand why then, but he did now. He knew that there would be some consequence for befriending Harry, now that the Dark Lord was returning to power. Somehow though, it seemed that those consequences didn't matter whatsoever compared to the ones that awaited him if the mission that Voldemort had given him was not completed. At the moment, all he wanted was to be close to Harry. He didn't know what exactly the attraction was; well, yes he did, that was a lie. He knew that he was totally and completely attracted to Harry physically. But that wasn't what he meant. Somehow, Harry offered some sort of reassurance. He had come face to face with the Dark Lord, or some form of him at least, five times now.

Draco already knew in his heart that being a Death Eater was not what he wanted, and if he wanted to evade that future for himself without facing death, then maybe Harry was his way out.

That didn't sound right; it almost sounded like he would be using Harry. But that was how he felt. Draco didn't want to be evil, and if following Harry Potter was the path to being good, then he would be right behind him.

Or under him, he thought, and mentally smacked himself. He took another drag from his cigarette and smiled, blushing slightly for his thoughts.

He pushed his fingers through his hair and some of it fell into his face. He swept it off of his cheeks. A lack of hair gel and motivation had kept it from styling his hair as he usually did, and some of his friends had told him that they liked his change in appearance. To tell the truth, he even like it himself. He wondered if Harry liked it.

Stop it, he warned himself, smiling through another hit from his cigarette. He was obsessing now, a tight fist clenching in his stomach. He couldn't stop smiling. He bit down on his lower lip and dropped his half smoked cigarette into the toilet water. He stood up and left the stall, his bag over his shoulder. Trudging out of the bathroom, he headed on his way to the gargoyle that guarded Professor Dumbledore's office, a tiny tinge of red still lingering on his cheeks.


	7. Chapter 7

[Author's Note I just wanted to thank everyone who have taken the time to comment. It's really given me an ego boost and I will continue to try and keep my readers satisfied. And even to those who haven't commented and have just taken the time out of their day (or night) to read this, I really appreciate it. Thanks everyone!

xxxxx

"Fizzing Whizbees," Draco said casually. The gargoyle in front of him seemed to roll its eyes before leaping aside and revealing the spiral staircase leading to Dumbledore's office. He looked up at it, adjusted his bag on his shoulder and proceeded to climb.

He reached the top and stood in front of the double doors for a moment. Then he raised his hand and knocked twice. The doors creaked open without anyone opening them. Raising an eyebrow, he walked past all of the tables covered in nick-knacks that were whirring and puffing smoke. When he reached the Headmaster's desk, no one was there. He looked around, and to his surprise, there was someone sitting in a chair in the corner by the window with shadows casted over her. You could barely make out her cross legged figure, but Draco's jaw dropped because he knew instantly who it was.

Narcissa Malfoy stood up and walked towards Draco, slowly, cautiously. He stepped towards her as well, not knowing exactly how to react to her presence. Soon they were only a short distance apart. Her aquamarine eyes were filled with tears and her heavy kohl eye make up was smudged on her cheeks. Her long blond hair, only slightly darker than Draco's, wasn't brushed and hung in thick chunks over her shoulders. Her wide lips, tinged a dark maroon, were contorted as if she was about to cry.

"Draco," she whispered, and she swiftly swept him into a tight hug, wrapping her dark green cloak around him. He stood, frozen to the spot.

"Mum," he said blankly, and she pulled away, holding him at arm's length. She cast her eyes over him and smiled through her tears.

"I'm so glad that you're alright," she whispered, and let her arms fall to her sides. They stood in an awkward silence for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. As it was true that Narcissa loved her son very dearly, it wasn't often that she expressed this physically. Draco looked at the floor, reaching his arm to the back of his neck. Immediately he knew that he shouldn't have done this because his mother released a squeak as if she had been struck across her face. She grabbed at his arm and held it in front of her, examining the bandaging. He rolled his eyes upward, but smiled slightly as she carried on with her motherly duties.

"How could you do this, Draco? How could you?" Narcissa demanded, but in a high, whining voice. He didn't reply. His gaze fell back to the floor. Narcissa pulled him once more into a tight embrace. She let him go quickly, and then rolled up the sleeve of his opposite arm. He didn't protest, but he winced when she traced her fingers over the burning outlines of the Dark Mark. It wasn't fully formed yet, therefor it didn't have the effect that it would one day have when touched; summoning the Dark Lord to you wherever you were.

She eyed him with a sad, tired expression. He didn't need her to say it; she'd said it a thousand times already. He had a choice.

"I'm sorry, mum," Draco said simply, knowing full well that his mother was going through agony having seen that he'd done this to himself. His eyes remained transfixed on the floor.

She smiled at him and brushed his bangs out of his face with her fingertips.

"It's alright," she said softly, her eyes still brimming with tears. "I understand what you're going through, I really do. I know that you're frightened." He gazed up into her eyes, nodding. But she knew nothing of what he was going through. She'd never be put to the type of test that the Dark Lord had demanded of him to complete.

Narcissa smiled again, holding Draco's face in her hands. There was a creak, and from a distance, the door of Dumbledore's office could be seen opening. Narcissa's eyes widened, and quickly, she kissed Draco on the forehead, undoubtedly leaving a tell tale lipstick print. But with a twirl of her emerald robes, she was gone, and in her place sat a small snow leopard, who sprinted for the nearest window and made its exit.

Draco was still in shock having seen his mother, and jumped slightly when he heard Dumbledore sit down in his chair at his desk. He wheeled around and stared at the Headmaster, who was staring back at him knowingly with each of his fingertips touching.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I see you've received my summons?" Dumbledore said, stern, but quietly.

Draco nodded, his eyes making a quick glance towards the window of which his mother had just exited.

"I just wanted to tell you," Dumbledore said, a bit louder as if trying to recapture Draco's attention, "that I believe your grades are suffering harshly. I think it best you spend less time smoking cigarettes and day dreaming in women's bathrooms and more time studying."

Draco eyed him suspiciously. This was something that any teacher could have told him. In fact, every teacher had already told him this. But Dumbledore obviously knew something. Of course he knew something, he was Dumbledore for Merlin's sake.

"Yes, sir," Draco said coldly, glaring into Dumbledore's kind eyes. The Headmaster dismissed him and he broke into nearly a run in order to be out of that office as soon as he could. He hated the feeling of being outsmarted. Dumbledore especially gave him a certain feeling of having his brain turned inside out and examined.

He hurried angrily through the double doors and down the spiral staircase. It was time for dinner, and even though he wasn't very hungry, he felt a burning need to be far, far away from his Headmaster.

Breaking into a run on his way to the Great Hall, Draco's bag slipped off of his shoulder. When he looked over momentarily to adjust the strap, he collided head on with another student.

"Hey, watch it," Harry said angrily, who obviously wasn't paying any attention to where he was going either. He had had his head buried in a Potions textbook that had been scribbled all over, which now lay strewn across the hallway floor. Annoyed, Draco crouched down and picked up the book. Before he could even properly hand it to him, Harry had snatched it from his hands, protectively.

Draco stood back up, a little hurt, and ran his fingers over his forehead and into his hair. Harry's expression softened and became apologetic.

"Are you heading to dinner?" Draco asked stupidly. Obviously he wasn't; he'd been walking in the opposite direction. As expected, Harry shook his head.

"I was just about to go to Gryffindor Tower actually," he said, nodding at the book in his hand. "Studying."

Draco nodded, glancing downward, secretly hoping that they could have exchanged more words. He started to head off towards the Great Hall once again, but Harry grabbed his upper arm where the Dark Mark lay hidden beneath his robes. He winced through the pain, but his heart leapt nonetheless and he wheeled around to find out what Harry wanted.

"If you want to, I mean if you're not hungry or anything... we could go to the library." Harry said, trying to sound casual but coming off eager. "I mean, if you want to talk or, I don't know. Study or something?" Draco's stomach tightened. He smiled a little bit and then turned completely around.

Harry smiled back slightly, and he and Draco walked alongside each other to the library. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own, Didn't happen. 

xxxxxx

There weren't any words exchanged during Harry and Draco's walk to the Library, which was a much longer walk than to either the Great Hall or Gryffindor Tower. When they finally reached their destination, they gladly took seats opposite each other at one of the reading desks. The silence that passed between them wasn't awkward or anything to Draco. It actually seemed to be better than talking, considering everything that the two had gone through together. Draco was wondering if at any moment, Harry would lash out and start screaming at him for all of their unpleasant confrontations in the past. Or worse; what if they started talking about his suicide attempt?

They sat across from each other, wondering if the other realized how hard they were staring. They'd both put open books in front of them, in an attempt to seem productive, but it wasn't working. After several slow minutes, Harry coughed, and opened his mouth as if he were going to say something. Draco perked his ears, but quickly relaxed again when Harry closed his mouth and looked away. Draco leaned back on two legs of his chair and stared at the ceiling. He thought that if he stared at Harry for a moment longer without speaking, he would end up vomiting his life story all over the table for the whole library to hear. Although the whole library only consisted of Harry, Madam Pince, and a shaky, nervous looking third year slaving over his school work, that wasn't a risk that he was willing to take.

"So..." Harry said finally, spoiling the silence once and for all. "Is there anything that you want to talk about?"

Draco felt a strong urge to roll his eyes, but fought it. He just wondered how many people would ask him that question before the day was done. Although this was Harry. This was the one he'd been day dreaming about; the one who he'd been dying to actually talk to. So why couldn't he talk now? He fell back onto the chair's front legs, looking Harry straight in the eyes.

"Yes, actually," he said in a defiant tone, that caused Harry to raise an eyebrow. "There are a lot of things that I would like to talk about."

Silence. Draco just sat still, thinking to himself. Harry uneasily watched him stare at the table with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Well..." Harry hesitated. "Like what?"

Draco looked up at him, as if pulling himself out of some kind of stupor.

"Oh, I can't talk about them here."

Feeling more awkward than ever, Harry glanced to the side.

"Well, where then?"

"I don't know."

Another few moments passed in silence as they both thought to themselves.

Madam Pince approached them, her lips pursed, to inform them that the library was now closed and that they were going to have to carry on their mindless chit chatting somewhere else.

"Oh shut it, you tired old bitch," Draco mumbled to himself as she was making her exit. But the librarian's keen ears didn't miss a word of it. She wheeled around and looked at Draco as incredulously as Harry was.

He looked up at her, glanced over at Harry, and then looked back, his eyes wide.

"What did you just say to me young man?"

"I... I, uh..."

"He said shove off," Harry said simply, and Draco looked at him in surprise. Defiance was written all over his face. He caught Draco's eye for just a split second, in which somehow he completely understood what Harry was planning. Madam Pince swelled with rage, and in a loud combination of curse words and spells, they were sent running out of the library with their textbooks attempting to beat them over their heads. The fuming librarian was not far behind them, and, laughing, Harry yanked his Invisibility Cloak out of the inside of his robes. Together they burst through the library doors while trying to swat away the attacking books. They ran as fast as they could, and although Draco saw nothing to laugh about, when Harry beckoned him under the Cloak, he did not object.

As soon as they had disappeared from view, Draco craned his neck around to see Madam Pince swearing and heading back into the library. They really didn't need to run anymore, but before he knew it, they were halfway across the grounds and heading for the huge tree beside the lake. Draco's lungs were on fire, chilled by the cool nighttime air. But he didn't want to stop running. In fact, it felt like they were never going to stop, bound to each other only by the Cloak, which wasn't doing much good anymore anyway, billowing behind them.

All of a sudden, Draco lost his balance and tripped. He fell straight down and rolled slightly, bringing Harry with him. When they stopped, they weren't ten feet away from the great oak tree; they were so close that it's low branches were hanging over them. They also weren't very far from the bank of the lake, and the smell of wet grass filled Draco's aching lungs.

He and Harry lay side by side, panting for breath. Harry's white uniform shirt was covered in grass stains. They laid there for a moment, just trying to regain their breath. And then they looked at ether and burst into laughter.

"That is probably the stupidest thing that I have ever done," Draco laughed.

"You're telling me," Harry smiled back, regaining his composure. He sat up and looked over at Draco, who remained sprawled over the ground, dirt smudged on part of his face. He looked back, his laughing calmed. He just smirked, not bothering to sit up.

"This is definitely not what I was planning on doing tonight," Draco said, looking from Harry up into the tree branches. A few stars twinkled through the leaves.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" Harry asked, staring off into the lake.

"Running frantically from a menopausal librarian in the middle of the night with Harry Potter, just to end up visiting the Giant Squid."

Harry laughed and smiled back at Draco.

"Well I wasn't exactly planning that daring escape, but you had to go and open your big mouth. What else was I supposed to do? Sit there and let us get walloped?"

Draco grinned. They locked eyes for a few moments before blushing and turning away; Draco to the stars and Harry to the water.

Silence surrounded them, other than the chirping of crickets and the tiny lapping waves from the lake.


	9. Chapter 9

(Author's Note) I've been getting lots of positive reviews, and once again I just want to thank all of my readers. This is one of my first stories that I've ever put on the web and it certainly has had a much better response than I could have ever asked for. Oh, and I'm sorry that the chapters are so short, but I'm trying to spit out at least one every night... well, enough rambling. On to the story! 

Xxxxx

A cool wind was blowing through the grass, and a long period of silence passed. Draco was sure that someone should have noticed their absence by now. After all, it had been at least twenty minutes since they'd arrived at the tree, and most of the students were probably getting ready for bed by now.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, and then spun around where he was sitting to face Draco. He rested his arms on his bent knees and smiled.

"What?" Draco said in a snappy voice, but with a silly smirk on his face. He was still lying down, his arms propping up his head to look at Harry.

"Nothing." Harry seemed lost in thought for just a moment before he said, "It's just that I can't believe what happened yesterday." Harry stared at Draco, as if searching him for answers. Draco turned his eyes to the stars once again, sighing slightly.

"Now that I look back on it, I don't really believe it either." He fidgeted nervously, wanting to tell Harry everything, but knowing that it would ruin this moment between them if he did. "It was like, that was the real me; a part of me that doesn't really get any time in the daylight, if you know what I mean."

"What made you want to do it anyway?" Harry asked innocently. The question made Draco somewhat angry, because all he really wanted to do was confide in Harry.

"It's a long story," he said finally, not being able to think of anything better to say to stall what seemed to be inevitable.

"I'm willing to listen." Harry's smile twitched. "I'm a good listener."

"I'm just not really ready to talk about it yet, okay?" Draco said firmly. He instantly regretted his tone, but Harry just nodded understandingly.

"You seemed pretty ready to talk back in the library."

"Well, I was on a different train of thought in the library," Draco said, smirking slightly as he remembered the way he'd behaved, as if he was in a battle with his mind. Technically, he was, but he could admit that it must have been quite an awkward sight to see.

Harry grinned and shook his head, scratching the back of his head.

"I guess I know what you mean; not really being able to decide if you want to talk about something or not. But usually if something is bothering me, I end up telling someone about it eventually. It really helps." Harry raised his eyebrows, as if trying to make the idea seem tempting.

Draco glared at him, not exactly needing any more temptation. Harry shrugged and started pulling up bits of grass. He twirled the blades around in his fingers until they snapped. Then he flicked them off of his hand and repeated the process. Draco watched him do this several times before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry to pester you. I just really want to carry on a real conversation with you, and this seems like the most obvious topic." He really did seem to be apologetic, and Draco swallowed hard, wanting to pour his guts out. He just really, really wanted Harry to enjoy his company, and the whole, "Hey, I might be a Death Eater" thing would probably put a damper on things.

So instead of saying what he really wanted to say, Draco asked, "What makes you want to talk to me so bad all of a sudden anyway. I mean, did, you know... what happened... did it really change a lot of things?"

Harry sighed exasperatedly, looking off to the side.

"More than you could ever imagine," he mumbled, barely loud enough for Draco to hear. Draco sat up so that he was eye level with Harry and leaned back onto his hands. They were only a couple of feet apart, and he thought that he saw Harry swallow in nervousness, but, as he'd done in the Great Hall that morning, dismissed the action as wishful thinking.

"What did it change?" Draco asked quietly, immense curiosity evident in his voice. Harry made intense eye contact for a moment, and Draco shied back, thinking he'd said something wrong.

"I've never really looked at you as if you were just another teenager, going through problems and frustrations and things. I've always seen you like a monster, someone that was just... mean." He put great accentuation on the word 'mean', causing Draco's heart to sink in his chest. He'd always had a kind of hope that Harry would have been able to tell that his bullying was just an act over the years. Obviously, that was one hope that proved itself to be false. Harry continued.

"But when I saw you in that bathroom; when you were crying and bleeding and then, just so glad to be almost dead... I don't know it just...It made me see that maybe-"

"That things weren't always what they seemed to be," Draco finished, staring down at Harry's hand dreamily, stupidly wishing that he was still pulling up grass so that he'd have something to watch. He looked up at Harry, who just stared into his eyes, still seeming to be digging for some kind of answer.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly.

There was another, very long bout of silence between the two of them, but they were definitely communicating. The cold silence was enough to let one know that the other was thinking about him.

"Speaking of things not being what they seem, you're girlfriend had some things to tell me earlier when we were leaving Potions," Harry said suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed. The words almost seemed to just blurt out of him, as if he had been positively dying to say them. Draco's heart leaped and his stomach dropped. He was too aghast to form words properly. His mind was racing fearfully in a thousand different directions, trying to figure exactly what it was that Pansy could have possibly told him.

Harry just stared.

"She told me something that I didn't ever expect that I would hear about you..." Draco's heart was beating so furiously that he thought he was going to faint. Maybe he would faint. He was feeling dizzy. Harry clenched his jaw.

Oh God, Draco thought. The worst possible scenario that he'd come up with in his head was about to happen. Harry knew... Harry knew and he was going to scream at him for it. He was going to scream that he was a faggot and hit him and it would all just be awful.

"I mean, until yesterday... When I had you there and you were just touching my face and smiling, even though you were covered in blood..." Harry's glare was like stone. Draco was immobilized completely, his limbs frozen. He was almost unable to breath. Was he even breathing?

"It just... it... _unleashed _this unbearable..."

Draco's heart was at the brink of exploding in his throat. His eyes burned from not blinking. His stomach was clenched so tightly in the anticipation of the next word that it hurt.

"Attraction..."

The whispered word seemed to float from Harry's mouth, suspended in the air around them. Time froze for just a moment, and in the next, the world itself had stopped.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco was still frozen to the spot, his mouth hanging open in amazement. What Harry had said had blown his mind to pieces. He was no longer immobilized by fear, but by shock. Was he hallucinating? He had to be. His daydreams had never seemed this real. Draco's mouth went dry. 

Harry stared directly into his blue eyes, waiting for a response that didn't seem to be coming anytime soon. After a moment of silence, Harry cleared his throat nervously, blushing. He began to stand up and leave.

"Alright then, I'd better be going."

Draco watched him move in utmost amazement, before shaking himself out of his daze. He grabbed for Harry's ankle as he was starting to walk away.

"Wait!" he squeaked, the word sticking in his throat. He was still trying to regain the ability to breathe. "Please... don't go."

Harry looked down at Draco, his pleading eyes, his saddened, pouting lips. His blond hair was swept all over the place from lying in the grass, and was barely grazing his shoulders with his head tilted up. Harry's face held a trace of anger, or embarrassment. Draco couldn't tell.

"I... I don't, I mean, stay with me. Please-"

Draco didn't get to finish begging. Harry was on top of him in seconds, pinning his shoulders into the grass. Startled, Draco thrashed against him, not realizing what was happening. He looked up into Harry's angry green eyes. His dark bangs hung in his face, giving him a type of intimidating sex appeal. He looked crazy with lust, one side of his mouth very slightly curled up into a tiny smirk.

And then they were kissing, and it was just as amazing as Draco ever could have imagined it to be.

Harry pushed hard against Draco's shoulders, and it was almost too painful to bear. But the fierce kissing was enough to let the sensation just become part of the pleasure. Harry ravaged him with a passion that Draco had only dreamed of, biting and sucking on his lower lip. When Harry's mouth traveled across his cheek and down to his neck, he couldn't suppress gasping out.

Draco tried to reach his hands up to tighten his fingers into Harry's hair, but Harry just grabbed them away and pinned them above his head, forcefully.

Harry kissed him again, long and hard, and when their lips parted, they were both panting for breath. Draco arched his back upwards with a dreamy sigh, begging for another kiss. He lifted his head and pleaded for their lips to lock again, but Harry just nuzzled his neck, breathing in Draco's smell. He then released one of Draco's hands and trailed his hand down his side. Draco shivered when Harry's fingers found their way through his robes and under the hem of his shirt. Harry gently traced a line across Draco's hip with the pads of his fingers and then ran his hand slowly upwards. He pushed his fingers softly over every one of Draco's ribs and then sunk his fingernails into his skin, dragging them down.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed in happiness, his free hand touching the other boy's face. As Harry pulled up Draco's shirt, he kissed his neck lightly. Draco's mouth opened in a silent plea for more. Shaking, he slid the fingers of his free hand into Harry's messy black hair. He began to suck and bite softly at the pale skin of Draco's neck

Draco murmured into the wind as Harry began to undo the buttons of his white uniform shirt, loosening his emerald green necktie. It was amazing how his fingers unfastened the buttons with such ease. Draco began to wonder if Harry had had practice in the matter. He wished he didn't; he wanted Harry all to himself.

Harry pulled himself up so that he was on his knees between Draco's legs. He leaned over and pulled Draco's robes open, slowly, cautiously. Draco pulled his arms out of the sleeves and let the black robes fall to the ground. He reached up and loosened Harry's own red and gold tie until it hung around his neck, completely undone. Then he undid a couple of Harry's buttons, but couldn't manage to get them all open before Harry pushed him back down again.

The gentleness in Harry's touch was gone, and he was attacking Draco's lips and neck with kisses and bites with the most force that he'd shown yet. His hands grasped at Draco's sides, grabbing at his skin and pulling him closer. Draco whimpered with the pain of his abused flesh, but Harry caught his lips with his own and the pain turned to bliss in the blink of an eye.

Draco wrapped his legs tightly around Harry's waist and yanked open the remainder of Harry's shirt buttons. Harry grabbed a hold of Draco's hands and once again pinned them above his head. His wounded wrist began to throb and Draco knew that one of the cuts had been reopened. He didn't care though; all he cared about at this moment was Harry; giving Harry what he wanted, and receiving what he needed in the process.

Draco's body was tingling all over when Harry began to sit up again. He kept hold of Draco's wrists, pulling him up with him. Then he fell back into a sitting position so that Draco was straddling him. When Harry let go of his hands, Draco held on tightly to Harry's shoulders and kissed him softly, slowly, almost painfully. Obviously Harry couldn't take very much of this, and he grabbed onto Draco's hair, forcing their mouths together and making Draco whine.

When they broke apart, Draco gasped for breath and dug his somewhat long fingernails into Harry's shoulders through his shirt. Harry clenched his jaw and groaned, seemingly enjoying the sensation. He latched his own fingers into Draco's shoulder blades and pulled him backwards so that he was lying on top of him. The exposed skin of their stomachs pressed together, Draco kissed Harry again, softly nibbling on his bottom lip. He pulled at it with his teeth and Harry groaned again, bucking his hips upward.

He slid his hand around the back of Draco's neck and pulled him down so that he could bite him again. When he did, it was so painful that Draco yet out a yelp of shock. But when Harry bit down harder, Draco found himself wanting more, begging for more, pressing his neck against Harry's mouth.

He squeaked and sank his long nails harder into Harry's shoulders. He felt the fabric of Harry's shirt pop open under his all of his fingers. In that same moment Harry let out a very audible moan against Draco's neck, loosening his bite. Then it became hard to grasp onto Harry's shoulders. Draco's fingers had become slippery with his blood. He lifted his shaking hand into his view, shocked with himself. The blood was deep under his nails and some trickled down his index finger. Harry released Draco's neck completely, and looked at his hand as well.

"Harry, I'm so sorry..." Draco whined quietly. Harry shook his head and shushed him, hinting that he needn't apologize.

"No, I don't care-"

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

'No, I liked it, Draco-"

A flood of light from a wand spilled over their faces all of a sudden. Draco and Harry looked up at the intruder, squinting and shocked like deer in the headlights.

"What exactly do you two boys think you're doing?"


	11. Chapter 11

(Author's note) Whew. Not much excitement in this chapter but it sure was exhausting to write for some reason. I'm going to bed. 

Xxxxx

Harry and Draco had been so caught up in what they were doing that they hadn't even seen Professor Snape trudging towards them in the darkness. He stood hovering over them, his feet not inches away from them. Their clothes and hair disheveled, expressions of shock plastered across their faces. Snape looked quite mortified himself, with the light from his wand casting eerie shadows over his face. And then he tilted his face downward a bit more, narrowing his eyes. He looked demented with anger, his long, black hair shrouding his face in darkness. Draco shook violently in fear, but beneath him, Harry was still as a statue.

"Now that I've interrupted your little get together, I think it is time that you went to your chambers," Snape said, glaring darkly at Harry. Draco glanced hurriedly between the two of them as they stared each other down. Harry didn't seem to share Draco's terror; on the contrary, he looked so angry that he could have attacked the Professor where he stood. His eyes were narrowed and glaring right back at the Professor, his jaw tightly clenched.

"Now!" Snape growled, waving his illuminating wand frantically in the direction of the castle. His eyes were wide in rage and he was moving rather erratically. The two students scrambled apart from one another and onto their feet. Draco grabbed his robes up from the ground. Harry hurried off towards the castle, not even taking a second glance back in Draco and Snape's direction. But when Draco made off to do the same, Snape grabbed him by the back of his shirt.

"Come with me," he hissed through his teeth, and Draco swallowed, followed by another violent twitch. His body was exhausted from all of the harsh emotions he had gone through in the last few hours, but he still had the strength to be terrified by the thought of what might happen to him when the word about this incident got out.

He should have known that something like this was going to happen. It was too good to be true and he should have realized it. Now Snape knew, Snape actually saw, and it was going to be the end of him. It was over. What exactly was going to happen though? Of course his father would have to know right away; he and Snape were practically inseparable. The two began walking at a fast pace towards the castle.

An infuriated image of Lucious Malfoy made his way into Draco's thoughts. He twitched again, and as if sensing his thoughts, Snape gave him a sharp knuckle into his back, snapping him back into the real world.

The Professor kept hold of the back of Draco's uniform shirt, which was still open in the front. Even though they walked quickly, Harry had disappeared from view. Draco wished that he could still see him; he needed some visual proof that the preceding experience had been more than just a well procured day dream. On the other hand, if that was true, then what was happening now would just be a nightmare, and he had nothing to worry about.

Snape and Draco were across the grounds now and had reached the castle without speaking. He kept a firm hold on Draco, and gave him a forceful yank to the side when he began to turn in the direction of the dungeons. Draco figured immediately that they were not heading for the Slytherin chambers, but for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom; Snape's office.

He couldn't be receiving his punishment so soon, could he? He knew that it was inevitable, but he thought that at least he would be able to have the night to contemplate how he would bear through his father's retaliation of his behavior.

The two of them hurried through the corridors, and when they reached their destination, Snape didn't release Draco. He merely gave his wand a jab in the direction of the door and it flew open to allow them entrance. The empty classroom was completely dark; there may have been some of the moonlight from outside pouring through the windows if Professor Snape hadn't had them completely darkened out to accommodate his tastes. But even without any type of light source, Snape lead Draco through the room and into his office.

And then Snape released him, slamming the office door. He hurried away to the back of his office, his robes swishing behind him. He yanked open the door of what seemed to be a broom closet behind his desk. A strange white glow was faintly resonating from the closet, but Snape was quite far away, and Draco couldn't see what he was doing. He stood, helpless and shaking in front of the door, wringing his robes in his fingers nervously.

What if Snape was already contacting Draco's father? He couldn't handle that right now. He wasn't sure how much more he could handle. All he wanted was to sleep. Or preferably, melt into the floor and disappear. He wished momentarily that he was still unconscious in the Hospital Wing. But then, he wouldn't have the lovely memories of what had happened between he and Harry not moments earlier.

And through the darkness, there is a light, Draco thought to himself. He began to try and recall every detail.

"Draco, come here."

As if his thought bubble had just been popped, Draco's heart deflated again, and he scurried over to where Snape stood. When he was a few feet away, he stopped, trying to understand what the Professor was doing.

Still facing the inside of the closet, Snape held the tip of his wand against his temple. Then he pulled it away very slowly, and with it he drew what seemed to be a long strand of wispy white smoke. The strand broke away from the wand and floated downwards.

Then Snape spun around to face Draco. Pressing his fingers to his temples with his eyes closed, it as if he was nursing a headache.

Draco stood absolutely still, his breath caught in his throat. He didn't know what was coming, and frankly, he didn't really want to know. He began to concentrate very hard on turning into a puddle on the floor.

Snape sighed and opened his eyes, peering wonderingly into Draco's. He had an exasperated look on his face.

" No one needs to know about this incident. I promise that I am not going to tell anyone about this, but Draco, are you trying to get yourself killed? Are you? Because that is exactly what is going to happen if you keep pulling these stupid, immature little stunts!"

Anger began to rise in Draco's chest. Immature? Who was he calling immature?

"Professor-"

"Draco, I might as well be your uncle. There is no need to call me Professor."

Draco glared childishly and took a deep breath.

"Severus," he corrected himself with a snotty tone to his voice, "If you'd remember correctly, I think I was trying to get myself killed."

A look of anguish crossed Snape's face, and, without turning around, closed the closet door and collapsed into his chair next to him. Draco followed suit and took a seat in the chair across the desk.

"Yes, I do remember Draco," Snape said, his fingers returning to his temples and his eyes closing again. Draco shifted uncomfortably, feeling sorry that he'd caused this reaction. He knew that Snape cared for him as if he were his own son, and proving to be a more caring father figure than Lucious ever could, he didn't really want to cause the man any grief.

The Professor looked back up at him quickly.

"But you must stop being so self destructive. I understand you were in contact with Narcissa tonight? Do you realize that she is on the brink of insanity, being so worried about you?" Snape was whispering, but Draco didn't seem to see any reason why.

"I'm not being self destructive-" he said loudly.

But Snape laughed shortly, cutting him off, and gesturing to Draco's arm with his hand. Draco scowled and tucked his arm against his side.

"What exactly do you call that?"

"That's not what I meant," Draco snapped. "I mean Harry. I was not being self destructive with Harry."

Snape sighed impatiently.

"You want to be a Death Eater, and yet you are cavorting around with the Dark Lord's sworn enemy in the middle of the night." Snape's voice was even lower than before. Draco looked down into his lap, beginning to twist his robes between his fingers again.

He mumbled almost incoherently, "I don't want to be a Death Eater."


	12. Chapter 12

(Author's Note) It is four in the morning, and I have so much caffeine and nicotine in my bloodstream right now that I think that I am going to explode. Oo 

xxxxx

Snape's eyes widened in terror. Hurriedly, he pushed himself away from the desk and leaped from his seat, as if just being near Draco would cause him to contract some horrible and contagious disease.

Of course he would react this way, Draco thought, his skin beginning to crawl. He was a devoted Death Eater. How could he have been stupid enough to tell Severus how he really felt about becoming a follower of Voldemort?

"Do not ever utter those words again, do you understand me?" Snape hissed at him so quickly that you could barely distinguish one word from the next. Draco glared at him. He hated Snape at this moment for his loyalty to Voldemort. He hated him with every fiber of his being and an angry, defiant expression crossed his features.

"But it's true," he snarled menacingly, glaring up at Snape with his fists clenching tightly around the robes in his lap.

"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S TRUE OR NOT, JUST DON'T SAY IT!" Snape bellowed, his face contorted in anger. Draco flinched, but immediately retaliated.

"WHY NOT? VOLDEMORT GONNA SNEAK UP AND KILL ME?!"

"YES!" Snape was fuming, his eyes to the point of nearly bulging out of his head. He towered over Draco from across his desk, his arms shaking and his chest rising and falling rapidly. As he tried to regain his self control, Draco shuddered, as he usually did when he was very nervous.

Snape sighed deeply and took his seat again, pressing his fingertips together in a remarkable impression of a brooding Albus Dumbledore. There was a long pause in which the Professor just stared at Draco, who was glaring at his lap in silence.

"It's a noble decision that you've made, Draco. Very dangerous, but I respect you for it."

Draco looked up at Snape in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

Snape sighed and glanced away. He wore an expression of deep thought, and Draco wondered what it was exactly that he was thinking about. Surely he thought it to be foolish for Draco to rebel against becoming a Death Eater. But seemingly, as he put it himself, he respected Draco's thoughts on the matter.

"Legilimency is a very strong, dark magic. If you are not a skilled Occlumens, Voldemort could be inside of your mind and torturing you with your darkest memories before you could even realize what was happening. That mark upon your arm just makes his power over you even greater. He can be watching you at any time, so do not give him a reason to bother with you by such a preventable action as speaking harshly against him."

By this point Draco was thoroughly confused. Legilimency? Occlumens? Snape was on his side? But how? Like he'd said earlier, he was so close to the family that he could have been Draco's uncle. This didn't exclude the fact that both Draco's parents and the Professor in front of him were loyal servants to the Dark Lord. He'd seen the meetings. They'd been held right inside his own home since he was a young boy. The Death Eaters that still believed Voldemort would return to power would be at his Manor regularly. Of course he'd listened in and he knew how they worked. Why wasn't he summoning Voldemort yet, or even more appropriately, administering his own form of punishment as they spoke?

"I have said before that I realize what it is that you are going through. I stand corrected, Draco. Before I thought that you were just scared for your own outcoming. I assumed that you had the same shallow mind that your father has. I was wrong." Snape turned his eyes back to Draco thoughtfully.

"What are you saying?" Draco asked quietly. His mind was swimming confusion.

"There is much for me to tell you, but I can't risk it now, not under the circumstances that you are in," Snape told him. His voice had returned to its normal, low drawl. All of the previous anger had been erased, and now his eyes were full of nothing other than concern. His eyes bore into Draco, and all of a sudden, he felt a strange feeling that his thoughts were being pulled apart and examined; the same feeling that he had every time that he'd come in contact with Dumbledore. All the talk of Legili-whatsits and Occlu-whosits made him nervous, and he tried to stop thinking about anything whatsoever. This proved to be harder than he thought it would be. Snape gave him a little smile.

"I think that you should head to your chambers now, Draco. But we have much to discuss. See me after class on Wednesday." Snape waved his hand in dismissal, but Draco remained firmly planted to his seat.

"You mean that you don't have anything else to say to me? About anything? Not even about what happened... earlier?" Draco's voice dropped. There it was again; the memories of he and Harry by the lake began to fog his mind so that he didn't even remember what he was talking about. But he still had the odd feeling of an intrusion in his thoughts, and tried to block them out. It wasn't working.

Snape cleared his throat a little bit, with a flash of a very subtle smile.

"All I'm going to say is that you can do as you wish. I just ask that you be a little more...ahem."

He cleared his throat again and traced his fingers over his thin mustache.

"Discreet."

They stared at each other for a moment, and all of a sudden there was no doubt in his mind that Snape had been looking in on his thoughts. Feeling violated and exposed, Draco furrowed his eyebrows and began to speak. But Snape shushed him and gave another gesture towards the office door.

Biting his lip, Draco stood up, began to speak again, couldn't find the words, and gave up. He stared at Snape for a second longer, before heading for the door at a quick pace. When he reached it, he grabbed the handle and turned for one last look at Snape. He'd returned to the closet behind his desk and was removing another wispy thread from his temple with his wand. With that, Draco yanked the door open and tore through the empty classroom. Then he took off down the corridors and headed straight for the dungeons to get to his dormitories, his robes balled up under his arm.

He'd run the entire way, terrified of getting caught by someone such as Filch or perhaps a teacher on guard duty. He thought about turning into his animagus to avoid being detected, but decided that a bright white ferret roaming through the corridors would be a little bit too conspicuous, especially considering that the incident in fourth year in which the impostor Alastor Moody had force changed him had revealed his animal's identity to anyone with ears for gossip. If he was seen as a ferret, anyone would know who he was and he'd probably be arrested for being an underage animagus. So he quickly decided to just head to the dormitories as a student. Detention would certainly be better than Azkaban, he thought facetiously.

He was well inside the dungeons now, and right before he reached the wall of which to enter the Slytherin common room, he heard a hiss.

"Pssst!"

Draco spun all around, but there was no one in sight. Thinking that he was most certainly going crazy by now, he started to head to the entrance to the common room.

"Hey!" Someone whispered loudly. Draco looked to his left.

"I'm over here!" He looked to his right.

"Over where?"

And then he was slammed in a very familiar way by his shoulders against the wall. His stomach lurched.

The Invisibility Cloak fell open, the hood sliding from Harry's head. His bright green eyes were full of worry.

"What happened?"

Draco glanced away, his breath shaky from the surprise. Harry released the tension on his shoulders, but kept hold of Draco's upper arms firmly. He looked back up and swallowed.

"Can I tell you tomorrow? In private?"

Harry hesitated, but nodded, and released Draco's arms. He made to leave straight away, but hesitated again and grabbed Draco's waist with both hands. Then Harry kissed him softly, and Draco could have melted into him. But the kiss was over as soon as it had began, and Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak back over himself. Without another word, he was gone. Draco paused, leaning with his back against the entrance to the common room. He stared off down the stone corridor in a daze, not thinking about anything in particular, but feeling the warm hand prints that Harry had left on his sides.

A cat meowed, breaking the silence and Draco's concentration. He looked down to see Mrs. Norris staring him down with her bright red eyes, her tail waving frantically from side to side.

Panicked, he squeaked out the password to the passageway and scampered into the common room.

xxxxx

(Author's Note Part Deux) Okay, that wasn't so bad. I didn't explode. Whoo. Oh, and I still really love reviews! hint hint, nudge nudge


	13. Chapter 13

**(Author's Note)** I feel bad about not putting up a chapter last night. I feel like such a slacker. Phooey. I'm sorry. Still **review** anyway? Pleeeeeease? Also... I'm sorry for the lack of excitement, but like I said, plot**plot**plot. It's getting good, I swear.

xxxxx

Draco was dreaming about fire. The dream started and he was in a room in his home that he rarely spent any time; most likely one of the guest rooms. But all of a sudden it was on fire. Every thing was blazing and he was choking on the heavy smoke. He couldn't get out because the door was locked, and he could hear his mother screaming for him on the other side.

He had been banging and clawing at the door, coughing and sputtering. And then he just stopped, wondering why it was that he was even fighting. His skin was burning and he couldn't take deep breaths. Soon he just slumped against the door and closed his eyes.

When he opened them next, he was face down in his bed, his mouth half full of his pillow.

Well, that would explain why I couldn't breathe properly, he thought grumpily, squeezing his eyes shut again and rolling over onto his back. He ran a hand down his bare chest and yawned. He blinked in the darkness and slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was quite sweaty despite the cold temperature of the dungeons. He threw the heavy green blanket off of his legs and swung them over the side of the four poster bed.

Memories of the night before flooded his brain without warning, triggering a piercing headache. The other members of his dormitory were still fast asleep, and the lights hadn't turned on yet, telling him that it was probably still quite early in the morning. Despite his throbbing headache, Draco lifted himself from his bed and stretched, reaching his arms into the air.

I need to bathe, he thought, drawing the curtains open from around his section of the dormitory.

He trudged along slowly into the showers, feeling groggy and dazed with his head swimming in thought. Snape, Harry, Mother, Father, Dumbledore, Voldemort, Legilimency, the Dark Mark, the cuts on his arm, the bites on his neck, the glowing broom closet in Snape's office. The list went on. He couldn't concentrate on one thing while he took a towel off of the top of the pile in the showers and headed into a stall.

The water fell over his face in warm, heavy droplets, easing some of the pain of his headache but none of the confusion in his mind. He washed as quickly as he could, but then just stood under the snake head shaped spout, letting the water run over him until the warmth almost had him asleep once more.

What seemed to be hours later, Draco heard the sound of the doors opening, and some broken chatter amongst some other Slytherin boys heading for the showers. Sighing and rolling his eyes, quite perturbed that this moment of solace that he'd found had been shattered, he turned off the water and exited his stall with his towel wrapped around his hips and his sleeping shorts bundled under his arm.

When he returned to his own dormitory, all of the people of whom he shared it with were still sleeping. The lights were beginning to flicker on and shine very dimly. He guessed that it was sometime around six thirty. Sitting down on his bed and pulling the curtain around his personal area of the dormitory, he began to towel dry his hair. Immediately, his headache returned at full strength.

And with that he began his morning ritual. He dried off, got dressed, and took his personals back to the bathroom. There he brushed his teeth, combed his hair, changed his soggy bandages, and caught a glance at himself in the mirror to make sure his appearance was at its best. This is when he paused, stepping closer to the mirror. He hadn't seen is own face in what seemed like days, and the reflection before him made his vain side want to curl up and die.

There was a large, angry black and purple bruise across the side of his face, almost a perfect imprint of the side of a hand. On the other side there was a cut with raised, reddened edges and a thin, dark scab. His eyes were a little bit too wide, and he wasn't doing it on purpose, and there were dark rings, even darker than before, all around them. He looked severely stressed out.

He touched the bruise carefully. It didn't hurt at all until he had pressed down quite a bit. That was probably why he hadn't noticed it before now. He almost couldn't recall where he'd gotten the marks, but then remembered his father striking him in the Hospital wing. Clenching his jaw in frustration, he sighed.

He looked around self-consciously, secretly hoping that no one would see him like this, even though he knew that everyone already had. It was hard for him to believe that he'd gone a day at school without anyone mentioning it. Of course they were already probably too updated on the gossip to worry about his face. They could be staring at the left behinds of a failed suicide attempt sitting on his arm. But then again, why did it even matter? It wasn't like it was his top priority to impress any longer. He definitely had much bigger, more important things to be worrying about other than a bit of a bruised up face. Why did he care who wondered where he got the marks from?

Taking part in one more act against the Malfoy name that may have well been a sin, he tromped out of the bathroom without caring what he looked like at all.

Still, the lights were dim and no one was in the common room yet. He sat himself down on a couch and tilted his head back, letting his eyes fall closed.

Defiant, angry thoughts ran through his mind. Why should he be ashamed that he had marks on his face? He remembered being younger and his father wouldn't even let him out of the house with a scape on his cheek from falling off of a toy broom stick. Appearances were everything, he'd been taught. Any imperfection should be hidden.

He sighed and kicked his legs up onto a table. He could hear Pansy and some of her friends coming out of the girls' dormitories. Just out of curiosity, he looked over at them as they flooded into the room. Almost immediately they were drawn straight to him, forgetting what it was they were originally talking about. He mentally groaned, once again not feeling enthusiastic about his popularity.

They started asking him if he was okay, if he needed anyone to talk to and other things of that nature. After much crooning and babying, casually he shrugged them off, telling them that he was fine and that he would see them in class. The girls tittered off out of the common room, but Pansy lagged behind.

"I talked to Potter yesterday," she told him, standing behind the couch and playing with his hair. She ran her fingers through the cheek length blond locks, enjoying the softness.

With his eyes closed, finding the sensation quite pleasant himself, he replied, "I know. I talked to him too."

"What happened?" she asked eagerly, the soft movements of her hands in his hair becoming a bit rougher with her anticipation.

"We talked in the library for a bit. It was nothing exciting."

"Oh," she said, her movements slacking. "I thought you'd have a lot to say to each other."

Draco couldn't help but smirk.

"No, not really."

Sensing that he wasn't telling her something, but not pushing any further, Pansy stopped playing with Draco's hair and rested her hands lightly on his shoulders. Her touch was comforting, but only by means of being a friend to him. He couldn't ever return the feelings that she had for him, and he knew that she'd realized this. That's why she'd talked to Harry for him. He felt grateful, knowing that he probably never would have gotten up the courage to talk to him himself, but didn't say anything about it. He figured that they were close enough to each other that she knew how he felt.

"Are you sure that you're going to be alright?" she asked, and he looked up at her thoughtfully. He wanted to tell her what happened, but he hadn't fully accepted it for himself yet. He wasn't ready. It was then that he realized that there were a lot of things that he wasn't ready to say, and needed to start letting them out eventually.

Pansy's bobbed black hair hung in her face, her brown eyes filled with worry. It seemed all anyone ever did anymore was worry about him, and frankly he was feeling a bit suffocated by it.

"I'll be fine. I'll see you at breakfast in a bit, alright?" He told her, closing his eyes again.

With a little hesitation, Pansy took her hands off of his shoulders and walked soundlessly from the room. He heard the door creak open and then clamp closed again.

Breakfast, he thought absently, feeling a bit of a rumble in his stomach. He had skipped dinner the night before, after all. All of a sudden, while thinking about his classes for the upcoming day, his stomach did a little flip. Where was his bag? He didn't have it with him when he came back from Snape's office. But he remembered having it while running from the library.

The tree, he thought with only a slight relief. He didn't know if it would really be there, but he figured that if it wasn't, then Harry would have it.

He almost leaped off of the couch and left the common room at once, heading for the tree by the lake.


	14. Chapter 14

(Author's Note) My life recently has been a plethora of incongruity. That's why I haven't been updating. But here's chapter fourteen. Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks to all of my loyal readers/reviewers such as Andrew-Squee and DeadSeven.

xxxxx

When Draco had already walked short distance away from the common room, a chill went down the back of his neck and he shivered. It was very cold outside, the wind cutting right through his uniform shirt. He considered heading back to the dormitories to get a cloak or at least a set of robes. But when he turned around, Crabbe and Goyle were stepping out of the entrance in the wall, yawning and scratching themselves sleepily.

Draco hurriedly turned back around and ducked out of sight, not wanting any escorts. Sure, the two of them had been very loyal to him as friends over the past six years, but they were just so dim witted that it was beginning to annoy Draco just seeing their faces everyday. He tried to make it obvious that he was tiring of them by ignoring them or insulting their intelligence (or lack there of). They, of course, took no notice to this, or perhaps just figured that he was being his usual snobby self.

He passed the Great Hall, having to bustle his way through a group of students, undoubtedly hungry and waiting for breakfast. The wonderful smell of fresh baked goods was already noticeable and seeping from the kitchens. He was quite hungry as well, but it was still about half an hour too early to consider eating. His stomach growled in protest as he passed the double doors to the hall.

Draco headed out of the castle and marched over the grounds through the tall grass, moist with morning dew. The water almost instantly soaked through the bottoms of his pants, making them stick, unpleasantly cold, to his ankles. The sky was a light grey, some spots darker and threatening with rain. For the most part it was bright, bright enough that he had to squint to see properly. However the sun hadn't begun warming the weather at all yet. His breath came in visible puffs of moisture in the air as he headed towards the lake. A thin blanket of fog was hovering over the grounds.

When he was close enough to see the giant oak tree, the anticipation he felt for reaching it dropped. There were already a couple of students studying under its low branches; a blond girl and a red haired boy. He recognized them from around school. They were both seventh year Hufflepuffs. The boy was muggle born, and the girl was good at Transfiguration. He didn't know either of them personally, and was feeling a bit downhearted that they were there.

He didn't really know what it was that he was expecting to find there. Perhaps Harry would be standing there waiting for him, beaming and holding up his school bag. Even if just his bag sat in the grass where he had left it, that would have been satisfying enough. But neither Harry nor his bag were anywhere to be seen; only the two Hufflepuffs slaving over their books as if they were cramming for an important test.

It seemed too late for Draco to turn around now. The two seventh years had already seen him coming towards them, and it would seem stupid of him to just head in the opposite direction when he was only a few feet away. Of course, they didn't exactly seem enthused to see him, maybe he could just turn around and they wouldn't think twice about him. But of course they didn't seem enthused, he was Draco Malfoy. He wasn't exactly what one other than a fellow Slytherin would call a friendly face.

With that, he turned on his act, narrowed his eyes and put a smirk on his face. When he came upon the tree, the two older students looked at him very in a very unwelcoming manner. They glared at him, and attempted to ignore him. He just glared back, looking smug.

"Have either of you noticed anyone taking a school bag from around here?" He asked casually, but with a tone that suggested that he definitely wouldn't be talking to the two of them if he didn't have to. They glanced at each other, and he thought that he noticed a bit of a smile pass between them. And then the boy looked at Draco, straight faced.

"No. We've been here all morning and we haven't seen anything." The redhead was obviously lying. It was very evident in his tone of voice. He turned his eyes from Draco back down to the book he was reading from, not giving him a second glance. The smirk slid from Draco's face, and he felt a strange anger that really didn't seem to belong to him. But he hated the feeling that something was being kept from him.

Draco could have just let it go, but his paranoia got the best of him and his chest swelled with the anger. His blood began to boil, and he wasn't even worried about the fact that his bag was missing anymore.

"What gives you the audacity to lie to me, you disgusting mudblood?" Draco snarled, utter hatred plastered across his face. The older boy looked up, shocked and infuriated.

"Excuse me?" he hissed in mock-misunderstanding. The girl stared up at Draco, her mouth open slightly in surprise.

Draco opened his mouth for another crude insult, but was abruptly interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Oh, don't mind him, he doesn't know any better."

Harry's casual voice caught Draco by surprise and he couldn't help wheeling around to look. There he stood, his arms crossed, smiling with Draco's bag slumped over his shoulder along with his own.

The seventh year Hufflepuff boy was standing up now, his fists clenched at his sides.

"What do you mean, 'Don't mind him'?" He's bloody Malfoy!" he said angrily, pointing an accusing finger in Draco's direction. Draco felt a very familiar feeling of wanting to become a puddle on the ground. He was standing there with his mouth hanging open stupidly, ogling Harry and feeling utterly ashamed of himself. He felt that it was safe to turn the act back on for five minutes and who happens to show up but Harry?

"He just called Stanley a mudblood," the blond girl said, still staring at Draco in surprise. Draco blushed and reached his arm up to rub the back of his neck. His cheeks felt extremely hot even though the wind was whipping his skin was continuing to chill him right through his clothes.

Harry looked at Stanley for a moment, and then gazed over at a dumbfounded Draco thoughtfully.

"You're right. Draco, you should apologize."

Draco immediately snapped out of his stupor and his face contorted in disbelief. He gave Harry a look that seemed to ask, "You're not serious, are you?" But Harry just gave him a little knowing smile and nodded towards Stanley, who looked just as confused as Draco was.

"Go ahead. Apologize. I promise it doesn't hurt."

Draco swallowed, looked over at Stanley, and just gaped for a second. Stanley waited, looking quite uncertain about what he was going to do. Then he looked over at Harry again, who's smile had disappeared. He gave Draco an insistent glare and nodded once again towards the angry red haired Hufflepuff boy.

He bit down on his bottom lip and looked at Stanley again. He still looked quite furious, but at the same time, very uncertain and suspicious. Draco couldn't blame him. He'd be suspicious to if he witnessed himself apologizing against his will. He'd be suspicious if he witnessed himself doing anything against his will, actually.

"Sorry," he said quietly, and his gaze fell to the ground, the red on his cheeks burning, the red showing vibrantly against the paleness of the rest of his skin. He wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt at warmth. His hair blew around his face as the wind picked up.

Stanley gazed around hesitantly and then sat back down next to the blond girl, looking puzzled. His lip was curled and his eyes squinted as he looked up at Harry. He lifted a hand lazily in the direction of Draco's bag on his shoulder.

"I thought you were going to prank him or something."

"Nah," Harry said smiling, and Draco looked up at him. Harry looked back to Draco and asked, "Are you cold?"

Still speechless from the usually foreign act of apologizing, Draco just nodded.

"Well come on then, you need to grab something from your room with enough time for breakfast."

Draco's stomach deflated and growled with enough pain to almost cause him to double over. Breakfast was sounding very nice at the moment. 


	15. Chapter 15

Draco and Harry arrived back at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. When Draco walked through the passage way, Harry stayed right behind him so that the door would not shut before he, as a non-Slytherin, could get in. Draco shivered in the sudden, yet minuscule rise in temperature. Goosebumps rose up and down his back. 

The common room made Draco feel somewhat self conscious in Harry's presence, as it was very stereotypical towards the basic Slytherin. The light was more like an eerie green glow, and the general atmosphere in the stone room was dark and cold. There were skulls and candles adorning every possible surface other than the seating, and even the light resonating from the fireplace couldn't seem to penetrate the dark aura that the room seemed to possess.

Draco noticed that Harry didn't seem to mind the dank surroundings, however. He stood only a few feet from the door, waiting patiently. His green eyes sparkled behind his round glasses as he gazed thoughtfully around the room. Only by means of his bright red and gold scarf bearing the Gryffindor emblem did he seem out of place in the Slytherin common room. Draco could tell by the slight smile on his face that it really wasn't a bother to him. In fact, it actually gave him the impression that Harry had been here before. The thought wasn't very surprising. Harry had already shown that he could get away with more than the average student due to his Invisibility Cloak. It was just an odd feeling to think that maybe Harry had been here before; possibly to see him?

Wishful thinking again, Draco thought, and in a flush, he looked around, not remembering why they had even come here in the first place. He stood a short way away from Harry, his breath caught in his throat. He felt stupid, and was considering asking Harry what it was that they had come for. Draco looked for some sort of silent answer, hoping that just staring hard enough at him would help him remember. Harry's dark hair was windswept and hanging over his eyes, giving off a wild expression that seemed all too familiar. Draco gave a small shiver, his muscles tight with anxiousness.

Harry stared at him, a small smile on his face.

"Well, it happens to be tomorrow," he said simply, making suggestive eye contact. The words sounded strange. What did he mean that it was tomorrow? Harry closed his eyes and grinned cynically. "Last night you said that you would talk to me tomorrow in private. Well, it's tomorrow. And," Harry took a short glance around himself. "We're in private. Are you ready to talk or do you just want to blow it off again?"

Draco hadn't been expecting that. His mind spun around inside his head and his eyes shot from side to side trying to procure some kind of excuse to postpone talking to Harry about his secrets. He still didn't feel completely safe about it; he still felt like there was a lot more ground that the two of them had to cover before he could trust Harry. He looked once more into Harry's face, hopeful and calm, and something came over him.

He was definitely tired of holding it in. And so far, Harry had been nothing but kind to him. What did he have to lose that wasn't already being threatened, anyway?

Harry's smile faded, but remained somewhat visible, perhaps just for reassurance.

"I'm not trying to be rude. I'm just curious. Keep it to yourself if you think that's best. I understand."

"I'm ready to talk," Draco said in a defeated tone. Harry tried not to grin with satisfaction, but it was clear that he was entirely enthusiastic to find out what the big secret was. Feeling like he should be annoyed by this, but too deep in thought about how to word everything to care, Draco beckoned Harry to follow him back into his dormitory. At least in there they would have a smaller chance of being eavesdropped. Even in the deserted common room, there was no way of telling who would emerge from a dormitory passage having heard everything they had said.

Harry, as before, stayed close behind Draco, peering cautiously over his shoulder every few seconds. The dark stone passageway let them out at another long hall of dormitories, stretching from the left to the right. Draco lead Harry to the left in the direction of his dormitory. There wasn't a sound to be heard throughout the entire dungeon, and he was hoping that there really was no one around.

Draco halted in front of his room, closed his eyes and took a shallow breath with his hand on the door knob. As if he was plunging into cold water, hurriedly he rushed inside and went straight to his bed, leaving Harry at the door. His trunk lay open inside of his little curtained room section. Various clothing items, including underwear, were strewn around it. He blushed, plopping down onto his bed. He shoved the clothes back into his trunk as quickly as he could, listening for the sound of Harry approaching. When his unmentionables were safely hidden, he looked around, expecting to see Harry at least a few feet away. But there he was, barely even inches away, in the process of sitting down on his bed next to him.

He was smiling, which was quite a sight to see in itself. It made Draco want to smile right along with him. Even when the two of them were much younger, Draco had looked at Harry and just knew that he was friendly by his smile. Though that was a sight that was rarely seen when Draco happened to be around, it had always been one of the things about Harry that made Draco want to know him. He had a memory relapse of all of the nasty things he'd said and done to Harry, that just seemed to slip out of his mouth against his will, and hated himself for it.

Prying his eyes away from Harry, he ran a hand over his forehead and into his hair, pushing his lengthening bangs out of his face. Then he stared at the ground between his feet with a sigh, wishing that he could just sit here with Harry enjoying his company, rather than sitting here and telling him his life story.

"So, where should I start?" he asked with an air of sarcasm directed towards himself. There was a short moment of silence as he thought of what would be a good beginning to his tale of sorts.

"How about telling me why you cut yourself?"

Draco looked at Harry in surprise. The question was directed at himself, and yet Harry had answered in possibly the most awkward way possible. He looked away again, back to his feet. He ground the heels of his shoes into the dark rug beneath his bed.

"Well... I started doing it last summer." Draco tried to dig up the memory that he had hoped to bury. He'd done a sufficient job at it until now. "I had a pretty bad argument with my dad. He shouted at me a bit that I had better do such and such or it would be a disgrace to the Malfoy name- blahdee blahdee blah. I just went into my room and... cried. Which mind you-" Draco raised his tone to emphasize his point, "is not something that happened very often at that time. That pampered little rich boy persona wasn't entirely an act. I got along famously with my father until..." His tone dropped again. "That night."

There was a short pause. Harry raised his hand and rested it hesitantly on Draco's shoulder, as if he couldn't think of anything better to do. This annoyed Draco famously. He wished that Harry would just leave, or butt in, or preferably sweep him up and kiss him so that he wouldn't have to talk anymore.

"I'd rather have died than do what he was asking of me. I spent at least an hour alone in my bedroom, thinking of the best way to kill myself. Eventually I just stopped thinking about it and found myself in my bathroom with a busted shaving razor in my hand. I sat down on the floor and just started daring myself to do it." Draco bit his bottom lip momentarily, remembering the exact feelings that he had felt on that night. He could feel the anger and the sadness and the fear all over again, as if it were yesterday. He assumed it was so easy due to almost the exact same emotions occurring only two nights before.

Harry's hand began to move up and down in a comforting motion on Draco's shoulder, urging him to continue.

"I guess I had wussed out on actually killing myself, but I still had the urge to do something. I held my breath and just gashed myself across the inside of my thigh. Oh, it hurt so badly I almost screamed." He smirked, glancing at Harry, whose hand had stopped moving and whose gaze remained as stony as ever. "But at the same time, it just felt good. I can't really explain it, the pain just... let it all out. All of a sudden my life wasn't so bad. I would be fine. And I just laid there on the floor, my leg throbbing, until I fell asleep. And when I woke up, it was like nothing had happened. Ever since then, cutting has just been like a... security blanket. It could be something stupid like getting a bad grade and I just bleed out my anger. And then I'm fine again."

Harry sighed angrily, and Draco looked up at him, waiting for words of disapproval. No one knew that he cut. Well, not until yesterday at least. He'd never considered telling anyone, assuming that they would scold him for it; perhaps take away his security blanket.

But the words never came. The two of them just stared at each other for a long moment. The breakfast bell rang, but neither of them took any notice to the piercing sound ringing throughout the dungeons. Draco wasn't even hungry anymore. It was just nervousness he felt in his stomach as he stared into Harry's eyes, glistening with anger. A familiar feeling of not being able to breath swept over him, and Harry reached out to take hold of Draco's other shoulder.

As soon as he closed his eyes, Harry was kissing him. Their mouths met in perfect unison and even though he still felt the nervousness clenched in his stomach, he had the greatest feeling of a weight being lifted off of him. Harry pushed the two of them backwards onto Draco's bed and laid on top of him, one hand resting on Draco's waist and the other latched tightly into his thin blond hair.

Just as before, Harry was completely in control, and that was fine with Draco. He sighed dreamily when Harry bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes rolling upwards into oblivion.

(Author's Note) Whoo! Chapter fifteen. Finally. I have had the time to update, but I haven't been using it wisely. YouTube is addictive, I will tell you what. Also, I've been feeling a bit hesitant about my plot line. But hopefully Chapter sixteen won't take a week to write. REVIEW PLEASE and maybe it will boost my confidence. I love you. :D


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